The Mandalorian Wars
by princebejitasama
Summary: The Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders continue their war march on the Galaxy. After seizing vital planets in the Outer Rim, Mandalore the Ultimate presses his attack on the Galactic Republic, progressing further into the Colonies Rim. Without the help of the Jedi, the Republic cannot hope to win the war.


_A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..._

_**STAR WARS**_

_**KNIGHTS OF THE OLD REPUBLIC**_

_**THE MANDALORIAN WARS**_

_The Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders continue their war march on the Galaxy. After seizing vital planets in the Outer Rim, Mandalore the Ultimate presses his attack on the Galactic Republic, progressing further into the Colonies Rim._

_Each day, the Republic loses more and more ground, as the Mandalorian armies win battle after battle. The Jedi Order refuses to join the war, and without the assistance of the Jedi Knights, it seems that nothing can stop the Crusaders._

_On the Mid Rim world of Kalprice, a Jedi Master been murdered while investigating the kidnapping of a Senator's daughter. The High Council has dispatched one of its best agents, in an attempt to find the assasin, and bring the culprits to justice... _

[Chapter One: "Trouble in Tella Varn".]

Kalprice.

3,978 years Before the Battle of Yavin.

With the setting of Kalprice's sun behind the mountains, the chilly night air had settled over the bustling Capital of Tella Varn like a shroud, chasing away the humid heat of the day. The coastal economic hive was a bubbling pot of activity right up until night fall, but quickly became something of a ghost town under the moonlight. The good, hardy dock-hands and miners to the outlying Kalesenya Mine had given way to the bad, corrupt and criminal elements as easily as the sun and day had moved aside for the moon and night.

Largely a trade city (exporting the planet's vast compendium of minerals and raw ores), Tella Varn had little night life to speak of, and even fewer tourists. What little night life there was to be found had gathered at the popular Massani Cantina, which was owned by the Duro Gangster, Drask Jesk. For all intents and purposes, Drask ran Tella Varn now, if only in an unofficial capacity. The Duro had all of the local Governments and their subsidiary bodies in his deep pockets, and (according to gossipers and rumour-mongers) had ties with the Exchange. Anyone who stood in his way was either bought out, or cut out. Usually by Drask himself, who had a sick penchant for violence in its extremes.

Tonight, under the stormy skies, heavy sheets of rain pouring down across the concrete capital, Drask was conducting "business" in the alley behind the Cantina, along with 10 of his highly paid goons. These thuggish grunts formed a broad circle around Drask and a shabbily dressed Rodian, who wrung his hands nervously, licking his lips as his beady eyes darted to each of the brutish faces around him. "Ah, Mr. Jesk... I... I cannot pay you right now..." he mumbled fearfully. "I'm afraid my work has been... has been slow..."

At that, Drask let out a sigh, and taking a slow drag from his death stick, nodded to a burly Gamorrean thug standing behind the Rodian. The pig grunted and stepped forward, slamming a pudgy fist into the back of the Rodian's head. He fell heavily to the rain-sodden ground, a keening groan escaping his lips, and thin trickles of blood dripped between his fingers as he clutched the back of his throbbing head. "You know... You really have brought this on yourself, Gerdun." Drask spoke softly, his tone dripping with false sympathy and regret. "You bet on the Swoops, but don't pay your tabs. What's a businessman like me supposed to do, eh?" he asked, holding his arms out in an innocently questioning gesture.

"I... I have fifty credits on me!" Gerdun sobbed, pleading with the Duro. "And another fifty in three days time. I swear it, Mr. Jesk! I swear!"

Drask closed his eyes, another sigh escaping his lips, the cigarette smouldering between his finger tips. "I have children to feed, friend." the gangster informed, his voice growing agitated. He took a final drag of the death stick before flicking it aside, his free hand fastening around his durasteel cane. "Are you really gonna take food out of my kids' mouths?!" With a snarl, he swung the cane into Gerdun's face with furious strength. "First, you don't pay me on time!" Crack. "Then, you feed me bad excuses!" Crack. "Then, you dodge me!" Crack. "Look what you're making me do, Gerdun!" he screamed, walloping the poor Rodian again and again with the cane. "This is all... your... fault!"

The Duro held the cane high in two hands, intent upon one final, killing blow. The money wasn't the problem here. Five hundred credits was barely pocket change to the wealthy crook. It was the message involved. If Gerdun lived, people would know that Drask couldn't keep his clientele in line.

And Drask wasn't about to lose face over a miserable, stinking dock worker.

Then, something happened. Drask found that, try as he might, he couldn't swing the cane. It was as though an invisible hand held it there, resisting the forceful pull of Drask's arms. With all his strength, he heaved on the steel rod with a panicked expression on his face, while Gerdun's agonised whimpers echoed through the alleyway.

"Having trouble, Drask?" a voice called from the night, seeming to reverberate from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Drask and his henchmen stared around rapidly, seeking for the speaker.

A sudden fork of lightning split the sky with a boom of thunder, momentarily lighting up the dingy alley. At the far end stood a tall, robed figure, his face shadowed within the folds of his hood, his right arm stretched out towards the struggling Duro. "I'm afraid I must interrupt your little business deal." he spoke quietly, but his voice still carried over the heavy patter of rain. "You and I need to speak about the disappearance Malaea Jen, and the death of Jedi Master Reeno Rellian. Immediately."

The Gangster growled low under his breath, his bulbous red eyes twitching with annoyance and anger. "Jedi scum..." he muttered, heaving on the cane again, to no avail. "Kill him, boys! 10,000 credits to whoever lands the killing shot!"

The hooded man sighed, lowering his hood and revealing the shock of black hair adorning his pale and pointed face. "So be it." With a flash of blue, Jedi Knight Alek Squinquargesimus summoned his lightsaber to his free hand, brandishing it in a flurry. The Gamorrean who had brutally put Gerdun to the ground was the first to try his luck, letting out a piggy shriek as he withdrew twin blaster pistols and fired rapidly from the hip. The Jedi shifted his foot, deflecting the blaster bolts with ease, his smirk growing as the other cronies joined the fray. With a flick of the wrist, he sent Drask and his durasteel cane into the side of a metallic dumpster and pushed forward, felling two human thugs with redirected laserfire.

Groaning, Drask rose to his feet, rubbing his throbbing head, and cast a wary eye across the battlefield. His thugs were falling, and quickly. Before long, the damnable Jedi would overrun his troops here and haul him in. He needed to do something, and fast. Sliding back his sleeve, he tapped away at the communicator tool on his wrist, and two roller doors built into the side of the Cantina slid up, revealing a full compliment of Battle Droids, armed with Blaster Carbines. "It's been swell, Jedi!" Drask called, scrambling to his feet. "See you 'round! Or maybe not!" Cackling, he sprinted away towards the end of the alleyway towards his gang's speederbikes and his grand escape.

Alek growled under his breath, deflecting laser fire again and again; a task made more difficult by the twenty Battle Droids now firing off a steady wave of blaster bolts in his direction. Despite his unfathomable speed, the Jedi Knight was losing ground, backing away towards an ambush. A crafty Nikta crouched behind a dustbin a few feet behind him, his calloused fingers gripping the hilt of a keen vibroblade, waiting to strike. As Alek backed closer and closer, the thug leaped from hiding, the blade held high aloft, screaming like a banshee as he swung it down towards Alek's neck.

Before he could land the killing blow, an unseen force slammed him into the wall hard enough to leave leave an impact indentation, cracks running from its central point in a wide, spider web pattern. As the would-be killer slumped to the ground, a second robed figure leaped from the nearby rooftop and landed beside Alek, his own violet saber sparking into life. "Thought you could use a hand." he called slyly over the whine of laser fire. "You usually do."

"Hilarious, Revan." Alek shouted back, using a repulse wave to toss the dumpster into a group of the droids. "I was wondering when you'd decide to turn up. It's not like you to let me have _all _the fun!"

"I hope you're not enjoying yourself too much, friend. Your quarry seems to be getting away." Revan replied, a grin lifting the corner of his mouth; the only feature visible within the folds of his hood. "You'd best catch up to him. You know how much I'd loathe to describe another of your failures to the Council."

Alek uttered a short, barking laugh, cutting an approaching Droid down with his violently humming saber. "_My _failures? I assume you've forgotten who dragged whom from the Rancor pit on Nal Hutta? Never mind me, Revan. I've got this one under control. Now, make yourself useful and cover me!" With that, the taller Knight leaped high into the air, using the Force to propel himself clear across the knot of Droids and cronies, and sprinted off as soon as his feet touched the ground, deflecting the blaster bolts coming from behind as he ran.

In the near distance, Drask had already clambered onto the bike and kicked it into life, a thick cloud of dust heralding his bid for freedom. Following suit, Alek jumped behind the controls of another speeder and zoomed off after his quarry.

An arid, terrestrial world, Kalprice was largely underdeveloped, and as a result, Tella Varn was little more than a concrete jungle with narrow, winding streets and low to the ground buildings to stave off the blistering, gale force winds that whipped across the upper atmosphere of the harbour city. Due to its largely blue-collar population, it lacked the bright, shining neon signs and vivid night life of more prominent worlds. As such, the gangster Drask (with his in depth knowledge of Tella Varn and it's labyrinthine street layout) had a marked advantage over the Jedi Alek, whose knowledge of the capital was based on this single trip.

Drask sped down one alley, turning sharply and zipping along a wide sewer drain, the filthy waters kicking up in a rooster tail behind him. The Duro glanced briefly over his shoulder, a smirk twisting his lips. "Jedi Poodoo..." he chuckled. "Thinking you could catch _me _in _my_ city?! Ha!"

A blaring light flashed from his right, and his grin turned into a snarl of horror as Alek sped out from an adjoining tunnel, suddenly hot on Drask's heels. The gangster withdrew a blaster from the holster on his belt, firing blindly over his shoulder. Up ahead, the open sewer drain reached a fork, with (Drask knew) the left path leading down into the subterranean lower levels of Kalprice, and the right feeding fresh, clean water from the nearby harbour. He made a move to the left, feigning to progress down into the sewers proper, but at the last moment, switched courses, firing a precise shot towards an overhanging crane, causing it to release its load of steel pipes, which in turn crashed to the ground, covering Drask's escape route.

Snarling, Alek urged his speeder forward, picking up maximum velocity as he zoomed up a wooden ramp, and the bike launched high into the air. It came down hard, nearly unseating the Jedi, onto the roadway which lined the drain. Down below, he could see Drask's speeder bike, tearing away at breakneck speed. Alek leaned forward, urging the bike on.

Drask couldn't believe his luck. He'd beaten the Jedi! And it had been so _easy_! Grinning like a loon and proud of his actions, he skimmed the water's surface, easing off the throttle. "That will teach them to mess with Drask Jesk!" he shouted, pummelling the air with a fist. "Jedi scum!" The bike zoomed into a long, dark tunnel, the Duro ecstatic about his apparent escape. Up above, Alek saw the bike enter the passage, and soon its tail lights were swallowed up in the shadows. Cursing under his breath, Alek kept up his unbelievable speed. His only shot at this was to beat Drask to the other side and swoop down on him from above.

What happened next was scarcely believable to the tall Jedi.

A moment before he intended to launch the speeder down into the drain, Drask's own bike shot out of the tunnel like a cork. Drask, however, was nowhere to be seen. The speeder careened off-course, slamming into the concrete walls of the drain and exploded in a bright display of fire. Alek landed, ripping on the breaks and completing a full 180 degree turn, his headlamps illuminating the passageway before him. The speeder growled and thrummed beneath his legs, his eyes narrowed, trying to discern something moving towards him.

"Let me _go_! Get your filthy hands off me, Jedi! Do you have any idea who you're messing with?!"

Drask's outraged voice preceeded his arrival. The Duro was cuffed with his hands behind his back, being shunted out into the open air by none other than Revan himself. "How?!" Alek shouted, his mouth curling into an astonished grin.

Revan returned the grin with a smile of his own, reaching up and lowering his hood, revealing his finely carved features and shoulder-length, dark brown hair. He'd pulled his fringes back from his face, tying them into an elegant braid at the back of his head, and his brown eyes danced with humour. "Getting a bit slow there, old friend." He taunted, shoving the protesting Duro towards the speeder.

"And once again, my theory that you are a Sorcerer as well as a Jedi is made ever the more believable." Alek quipped, leaping down from the bike. "Fancy telling us who ordered the abduction of Malaea Jen and murdered Master Rellian, Drask?" he asked, glancing towards the gangster. When the crime boss merely glared at the Jedi, Alek sighed. "You can tell _me_ what I need to know, or..."

"Or you can accompany Alek and I to Coruscant." Revan finished. "And believe me, Drask. You do _not_ want to end up on Coruscant. They'll eat you alive."

Drask fell completely silent, licking his lips nervously. "I... It weren't me! I swear it!" he shouted suddenly. "What would I stand to gain from some Senator's daughter going missing?! Nothing! All I did was pass on the bitch's itinerary!"

"We know you didn't order the hit yourself." Alek said coldly. "Its too grand a scheme for a cowardly little slime ball like you. But we know you played a part. What we're asking, is who contracted you?"

"They'll kill me, Jedi."

"Who'll kill you?"

Drask glanced around nervously, his eyes darting back and forth at a furious pace. After a moment's deliberation, he leaned forwards conspiratorially. "The ones who paid me for the girl's itinerary..." Before he could finish speaking, a laser point appeared over his heart, and a split second later, a blaster bolt ripped through his chest, and the Duro collapsed to the ground.

"Sniper!" Revan shouted, summoning his saber to his hand in a flash of violet, and Alek did the same as the two ducked behind the speeder bike. "Did you see him?!"

From the end of the drain near the sea, a gunship's engines wound into life, filling the air with the sound of thrumming turbines. Alek produced a set of night vision binoculars from a pocket in his robes and fixed them to his eyes, leaning out from behind the speeder. As he stared, he watched an armoured figure leaping into the ship's open doorway, and, his work done, slam the sliding door closed, moments before the vessel roared into the skies.

"What is it?" Revan asked. "What do you see?"

"Mandalorians." growled the taller man, sheathing his lightsaber. "Mandalorian filth, cleaning up their loose ends. Now we know who contracted this buffoon" he jerked a thumb at the dead Duro, lying face down in a pool of his own blood, "to track Senator Jen's daughter."

"_And_ who murdered Master Rellian." Revan added, disengaging his own blade. "Doubtless, he was getting too close to uncovering the truth of the matter."

Alek scoffed. "More like he paraded his Jedi status around like a beacon, demanding questions of the wrong people. It pains me to say that he most likely caused his own death with his careless behaviour."

"And it pains me to hear you say it, Alek." Revan replied with a frown. "Master Rellian was a good man. A valiant Jedi. But, I believe you speak the truth. He was the wrong man for the job."

"We need to do something about this, Revan." Alek spoke in determination, his face set and grim as he glared at Revan's profile. "The Mandalorians won't stop fighting. Ever. And the Republic isn't equipped to handle a foe of this magnitude."

"I know." Revan replied solemnly.

"If we could incite a revolution amongst the Jedi, I _know_ we could turn this war around. Zayne Carrick, Meetra Surik, Cariaga Sin, Xenan Tal... They've all already expressed their concerns about the war. Doubtless, many more share our fears."

"I know."

"The Council won't allow us to proceed with our plans. You're a fool if you believe that merely speaking with them will-"

"I _know_, Alek." The tone of finality in Revan's voice halted Alek's speech. "The Council will do no more than forbid us from joining the Republic. They'll give the same reasons they've given in the past, and brand us apostates if we defy them." Finally, the long haired Revan shot his companion a glance. "But we are _Jedi_, Alek. We will seek their approval before enacting any course of action in regards to the Mandalorian blight. And, we will be as courteous and respectful as our rank dictates when meeting with the High Council. Do I make myself clear?"

Alek was on the verge of seething anger. His hands curled into fists, flexing hard enough for his knuckles to audibly crack, his lip twitching in silent snarls. It was through clenched teeth that he acquiesced. "As crystal." he spat in annoyed tones.

"I'm not throwing away your suggestion for action, my old friend." Revan's fiercely determined expression softened as he spoke, and he exhaled deeply. "I am merely asking that we follow the correct guidelines before we go to war with the Mandalorians." He placed a hand on his comrade's shoulder, turning to face him, half expecting the taller Knight to shrug it away. When he didn't, he laid out his request. "_Please_, Alek."

"Oh, I suppose you're right. As usual." Alek muttered grudgingly, his visage briefly cracking into a small smile. "We'll follow your course of action."

Bracingly, Revan briefly tightened his grip on Alek's shoulder, a smile flitting across his face. "Thank you, Squints." he shifted to Alek's lesser known moniker. "We'll fight them to the last man, I promise you."

Alek gave a single, curt nod. "Let's get off this abysmal world." he suggested, drawing the folds of his cloak tighter about him. "I can't stand its stench any longer."

"What about him?" Revan queried, gesturing towards Drask's lifeless form.

Alek glared coldly at the corpse. "The Womp Rats and Tachs need to eat, too. Perhaps he can serve a better purpose now that he's dead." He spoke with icy indifference, turning and striding away.

In truth, Revan often worried about his companion's brash, reckless and often ill-tempered behaviours. Revan and Alek had been friends since their time as Younglings on Dantooine, and while Revan knew that "Squints" was a fiercely loyal friend, he couldn't help but feel that the tall young man was headed down a dark path. Of course, in his youth and arrogance, Revan didn't believe for a second that _he_ _himself_ could ever stray from the light. The Jedi Knight merely mentally braced himself to do whatever was right should Alek abandon the Jedi.

Rather than making the long march back to the Space Port in the drizzling rain, Revan relayed orders to their transport via their accompanying Astromech droid, and the Ministry-class Orbital Shuttle glided out of the barren station, zooming low across the flat-top buildings of Tella Varn towards the duo of Jedi Knights. They clambered aboard without a further word, and the shuttle's thrusters glared white hot as it sped upwards towards the cloudy heavens.

The shuttle, incapable of interstellar travel, was intended to take them up to the waiting Hammerhead-class Cruiser, "The Golden Dawn", which had been Revan and Alek's home for the past six months. The companions had been assigned to the Dawn's upper tier command team, and led pre-emptive runs on the Mid-Rim in an attempt to better prepare the inner Galaxy for the Mandalorian assault. Revan (and Alek) knew that such tactics were pointless in an all out war with a foe like the Mandalorians. Their strategies were cunning and constantly changing; impossible to predict, tediously difficult to counteract. But Revan had studied Mandalore's tactics at almost every moment he could spare. After such in depth diagnosis, the Jedi felt he had the measure of the man. He _knew _he could defeat him in the field.

The Council, however, blocked that path every time he made inroads with his fellow Knights.

Once aboard the Golden Dawn, Alek departed immediately for his private quarters, muttering something to Revan about needing to meditate and reflect. It was an easy lie for the charismatic Jedi to see through. Alek, clearly, intended to get in contact with the names he'd mentioned on Kalprice's sufrace; The scarily gifted Zayne Carrick, the resourceful and well respected Meetra Surik, the petite yet vivaciously powerful Cariaga Sin, the experienced Xenan Tal... All of those names, plus many others, would be on Alek's call list for the next several hours. Revan would be doing no such organising. At least, not today.

After making his reports, the Jedi Knight retired to his private chambers, his mind reeling with thoughts of potential rebellion...


End file.
